


Closer to home

by creamcoffee5



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creamcoffee5/pseuds/creamcoffee5
Summary: Just a small thing I wrote because I really enjoy character studies. Clive goes on a little walk to clear his mind and thinks about the reason it's so hard to be close to people who consider him family.I suppose this is a continuation of my last fic.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Closer to home

I put on my warmest jacket and headed outside, not caring how loud I shut the front door or how late it was. I walked out of the flat, down the stairs, and into the streets of London. I didn't have any idea of where I was headed or where I was going. The streets were so quiet at this time of night. It felt blank, the thoughts running through my head fell through like ink on paper with every footstep I took. It was one way to clear my head, I supposed. I was sure the Professor had caught on to the fact that I had left. I couldn't mind however, I preferred to be out here than turning in my bed, willing for sleep I might never be blessed with. 

I stopped by the river. I wasn't exactly sure where I was. I had become distant towards my surroundings while walking. I looked down at the water and watched as it rippled against the wall in a soft, slow sleep. At night the Thames was very gentle and I felt grateful for that. The rushing waves that occasionally graced it had plagued my mind before with too many thoughts, thoughts about what it would be like to be held in their grip. Now was not one of those days, thankfully. As I continued to gaze, a small flock of ducks swam up to shore. I thought about Luke and his love of animals. I hoped he was sleeping well. Sometimes I wondered, after everything I had wanted to do before, why would Luke still instill confidence in me? I realised how lucky I am. _"I don't deserve any of this."_ I thought. My mind next wandered to the Professor. The kind but enigmatic Professor Layton. Who, even after my grievances, had accepted me as family. I really didn't deserve any of this. I had a place to call home again, I had people to call family. Yet I still felt disconnected and discontented. I felt as if I was acting ungrateful. 

I knew I had a fear of becoming close to people, even though I wouldn't outright admit it. Kinship felt as if it was covered in thorns and deep ivy. My past surrounds me like a bubble, fragile to the slightest touch. The idea of people being pulled away so easily scared me. So I kept my bubble near, holding onto the last real relationship I had before it burst. I mended it with fleeting bouts of anger, spite, and hate. With the determination to make a wrong right again. I knew it wouldn't last forever, that someone would come along and push their thorns into the places it was weak. I would feel the pain of connection again, of closeness and kindness. No matter how desperately I wanted to be near I pushed myself away. I wanted to be close to the Professor and Luke. I wanted to feel that bond, to let them into the space I enclosed myself into so tightly. 

The ducks had passed now, turning into specks on the night water until I could barely see them anymore. The railings I had been holding onto felt ice cold as I readjusted myself to my surroundings. I put my hands in my pockets and walked home. I had walked for about an hour, apparently, although I couldn't tell. I opened the door again and was greeted by the familiar warmth of the flat. I could see a stream of light running across the floorboards and walked towards its source. Inside was the Professor reading up on a book. I was right, he had heard me leave. "Ah, Clive." He had turned his head towards me. "Glad you're home safe, my boy." A gentle smile found its way across his face. I couldn't help but smile back. He faced his book again and turned the page. I could tell he had been worried. There was a small pot of tea brewed on the table, a second cup had been left out for me. I decided to accompany him on the sofa and helped myself to the tea. The gentle aroma caressed my unease and I felt myself being pulled into sleep. Maybe he had planned this. But I didn't care, and maybe some part of me didn't want to know. I felt safe in the closeness of someone and it was enough. So maybe my bubble isn't as fragile as I thought, or perhaps it is. Maybe I've gained the courage to pull back those vines, to face the hurt myself and get far enough to pull out a caring heart.


End file.
